


Unpredictable Like Weather

by inralphlauren



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, PWP, really tho what am i doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5528672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inralphlauren/pseuds/inralphlauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongin thinks it's a great idea to visit Junmyeon at work. Only to end up wanting something else.</p><p>Or, alternatively, Jongin gets Junmyeon laid at work. A sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4113949">I Prefer Expensive News</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpredictable Like Weather

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, y'all! It's been a tough year but I hope you're doing well.
> 
> Title comes from Super Junior's _Why I Like You_ and you can find the prequel [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4113949).

☀️☀️☀️

Jongin runs his thin fingers through unruly hair, huddling into his sweater a bit more. It’s stupid, at least for Jongin, that he’s fallen out of being able to withstand the strongest of Seoul winters. Now, he trembles at the mere summer’s night breeze. Pathetic.

As if to add fuel to the fire of his annoyance, trying to find parking in the nearest lot could only be compared to getting Sehun to stop drinking those bubble teas he loves so much from K-Town. Jongin shudders at the thought of the impossible task. Currently, he’s making his way down the winding road that cuts through the Murphy Sculpture Garden from the parking lot to Bunche Hall. After the embarrassment that had been Sehun last week, Jongin had believed it to be a good idea to take out Junmyeon to a great Korean BBQ restaurant in K-Town. Sehun had pouted when Jongin scolded him, saying he had been doing a public service by preventing them from having public sex. Furthermore, Sehun had recommended his favorite Mexican food place, _Guelaguetza_ , instead of _Byul Gobchang_ which had earned him a frown from Jongin.

(“Why would Junmyeon like Mexican food?”

“Because he’s cultured, _duh_. Also, did he not eat tacos with us last week?”

“Yeah… but…”

“You should ask him what he wants to eat. Give him options. I’d be hella happy if you gave me options.”)

Jongin can’t believe he’s actually going to listen to Sehun as he reaches the front doors of Bunche Hall, bowing slightly at the security man at the door. He remembers that Junmyeon’s office is on the eighth floor, along with the rest of the Economics Department faculty, so he presses the button for the corresponding floor once inside the elevator. Jongin’s lucky that no one seems to get on the elevator to ride to a higher floor, arriving at the level fairly quickly. He’s only been here a handful of times, but he’s blessed with brilliant memory that got him through Harvard.

“How may I help you?” comes the deep voice of a receptionist, definitely too deep to be female. Jongin is slightly startled by the voice, but turns around to politely bow at the man. _Yixing Zhang_ , his name plate reads.  _Chinese_.

“I’m sorry, I was looking for the teaching assistant, Junmyeon Kim.” Yixing’s eyebrows raise before nodding, bright smile showing off his deep dimples.

“Ah, Junmyeon-ssi,” Yixing surprises him by switching to Korean and speaking it fluently. Jongin smiles, impressed by the man. Then again, Yixing is UCLA faculty. Yixing purses his lips thoughtfully before resuming, “he’s in class right now. I can pull up his schedule and give you his office hours if you need that.”

“No, no,” Jongin smiles, “I’m not a student. I’m his b—” Jongin stops himself mid-sentence, brain working overtime to not spill the beans, “—est friend and we were going out to dinner. Well, I was going to take him out for lunch, but it’s obvious I don’t know his schedule.” He chuckles nervously, earning him yet another suspicious glance before Yixing smiles, dimples in plain sight.

“It’s normal to not know Junmyeon-ssi’s schedule,” Yixing states matter-of-factly, “I have to constantly ask him if there are more classes he’s teaching because he does so much. Be sure to tell him to take it easy. But here.”

Yixing turns towards a binder full of complicated graphic worksheets, which Jongin guesses are schedules of other staff members. The shorter man scribbles the room number on a sticky note and then hands it to Jongin over the counter. “The room is on the other side of the building. They have some arrows point to those designated for classrooms.”

Jongin beams, flashing Yixing one of his trademark smiles. “Thank you so much, Mr. Zhang.”

“Yixing. Please,” he says, chuckling softly. “Hope to see you soon, Jongin.”

Jongin makes it to the other side of Bunche Hall just as students are swarming out of classrooms. He guesses this is the right direction as the numbers begin to decrease in value and approach the number 3420. Some students side-eye him, probably because of his outrageously dyed cotton candy-pink hair, but Jongin loves it and so had Junmyeon, the day the elder had helped him dye it. Jongin’s feet are quick and suddenly he’s in front of 3420, turning the doorknob to find a blond Junmyeon slipping his Macbook Air into its green sleeve. Junmyeon is wearing his round, thin-framed lenses that make his face look even more aristocratic than his birth certificate already dictates.

“Hey,” he finally manages to heave along with a dreamy sigh because Junmyeon looks absolutely perfect. Jongin actually thinks he looks stunning all the time, though. Don’t trust him.

“Jongin?” He does notice that Junmyeon is staring at him, in a dark green cardigan and khaki slacks that look a bit too loose at the hips. That’s good, he thinks, because he doesn’t want anyone checking Junmyeon out. Jongin doesn’t think, acts on instinct instead, when he presses the lock into the doorknob of the classroom door.

Junmyeon notices, eyes going a bit wide at the action. “Jongin?” he says, eyes flickering back and forth between the locked door and Jongin’s face. “How did you know I was here?”

Jongin laughs, a bit of pink probably dusting his cheeks, but he doesn’t really care. Not when Junmyeon is smiling involuntarily and it’s more than cute. “Hyung,” Jongin whines, trying his best to pout. Junmyeon only smiles more, his eyes turning into individual crescents. They each look like they contain the intensity of a thousand suns.

In a matter of two steps, Jongin is grabbing Junmyeon by the waist and bringing him flush against him. _Not yet_ , his mind screams, but to hell with rationality.

“Jonginnie,” Junmyeon says in a bit of a squeak, chuckling softly at his body’s own betrayal. He leans into Jongin’s face, eyelashes fluttering close to his cheeks before Junmyeon is peering into his own eyes through a hazy gaze. “This is a really pleasant surprise,” he says, quieter this time, almost hesitantly. Junmyeon then proceeds to peck Jongin’s nose, earning him a snort from the taller male. At some point, he’s managed to have Junmyeon’s ass slightly resting on the desk, sitting upright while Jongin stands in between his legs. Jongin asserts their height difference by looking down at Junmyeon with a small smirk. A million plans, a million ideas surge through his mind at that very moment. None of them include going out for dinner anymore.

Junmyeon seems to catch the reeling thoughts in Jongin’s head because he’s looking amusingly at the younger male before a playful smirk tugs at his lip. “What are you thinking about?”

Jongin swallows thickly. “I came here wanting to take you out to dinner. Now, though, I’m thinking about how good Kim Junmyeon, teaching assistant, would look getting his dick sucked in a UCLA classroom.”

Junmyeon’s breath immediately hitches, spine straightening abruptly as if electrocuted. Jongin smiles like a cheshire cat, bringing his hand down to wrap his thumb and middle finger around one of Junmyeon’s thin wrists. Junmyeon’s frowning at this point, but the glint in his eyes betrays him as he leans forward, Jongin slowly lowering himself to see the other male eye to eye. “How does that sound, hyung?”

“Jongin,” says Junmyeon, voice stern, but once again, the dark pools of his eyes are giving too much away and Jongin has always been observant when it comes to Junmyeon. “We can’t. Someone might come in. I have another section coming in soon.” For some sickening reason, Jongin enjoys that idea very much. In fact, he’d even admit to feeling a heat stirring at the pit of his stomach. However, someone coming into the classroom is impossible.

“Oh, yeah?” Jongin mutters, leaning in to capture Junmyeon in another fervent kiss. This time, his teeth slightly sink down into Junmyeon’s before he’s sliding his tongue into the elder’s mouth. Junmyeon seems to give up completely the moment he fists his hand in Jongin’s sweaty hair, tugging lightly every time Jongin attempts to pull back in need of air.

He’s out of breath by the time Junmyeon finally lets go, cheeks flushed and lips looking absolutely ravished. “That sounds like an excuse,” Jongin whispers huskily, “because I locked the door the moment I came in. And you saw it.”

Junmyeon visibly and audibly gulps, a small, nervous tugging at the corner of his lips. “That still doesn’t mean it isn’t wrong,” says Junmyeon.

“Hyung,” Jongin petulantly whines. He doesn’t wait for a response because he’s already reaching to unzip Junmyeon’s slacks, eliciting a small gasp from the shorter male. “Let me take care of you.” The zipper being pulled down isn’t as loud as he’d expected, the students walking through the hallways drowning out sounds of such a miniscule scale.

Jongin decides this isn’t the best of times to be at internal conflict with such insignificant thoughts, so he makes quick work of pulling Junmyeon’s underwear by pulling at the elastic waistband in one swift movement. Junmyeon is already hard, cock springing from the constraints of his underwear. Jongin can’t help but lick his lips. “If I knew this is what you liked, I’d have done it a long time ago, hyung,” teases Jongin with a smirk before grabbing the base of Junmyeon’s dick. Junmyeon gasps.

Jongin isn’t stupid, fully aware that what he needs with Junmyeon right now is something long and drawn out. So, as he keeps his fist firmly at Junmyeon’s base, his lips decide to trail throughout the expanse of his hyung’s thighs. The salty taste of skin attacks his tastebuds as he dips closer, nearing the junction between Junmyeon’s leg and nether region. He mirrors his ministrations on Junmyeon’s other thighs before craning his neck to meet Junmyeon’s gaze. Above him, Junmyeon is looking at him with blown, dark pupils, lips sinfully red and Jongin’s immediate response is to smirk and wet his lips. When he manages to suction his lips on the tip of Junmyeon’s dick, Jongin looks above through his eyelashes to take in Junmyeon’s wanton look. Junmyeon is sweating now with his eyes tightly closed, a few of his regularly disarray locks now plastered slightly onto his forehead by a thin sheen of sweat. Jongin takes that as his invitation to begin bobbing his head on Junmyeon’s length. Jongin has always been attentive to the way Junmyeon’s body always puts his veins on physical display, the vein running on the underside of Junmyeon’s cock not an exception. Deliberately, slowly, Jongin detaches himself from Junmyeon’s cock and swirls his tongue around the cockhead, grazing his teeth slightly against the edges of the excess foreskin. His next task calls for Jongin’s sinful tongue to trace  Junmyeon bites back would could have been a particularly loud moan by sinking the entire row of his top teeth onto his lower lip.

A soft rapping against the door distracts both Jongin and Junmyeon from their current activities, Jongin sliding his mouth off until only the tip of Junmyeon’s cock is left inside his mouth. The soft knocks continue, a voice asking, in a loud voice, “Did he email us saying section would be cancelled?” From the question, Jongin assumes that the person is not alone and instead, a group of students are gathered outside the classroom. A few students mutter, but only two or three students respond with confident no’s.

For some reason, the conversations outside do nothing but brush Jongin’s ego and he smirks around Junmyeon’s cockhead before he’s inhaling sharply, taking as much as he can into his mouth. Junmyeon makes a noise behind his throat resembling a choking sound, but Jongin can’t read much into it anymore because Junmyeon’s nails are digging into his scalp painfully. It’s at this moment that Jongin’s gag reflex kicks in, eyes watering at the edges as he wills himself to maintain control for the sake of pleasing Junmyeon. The older man seems to sense Jongin’s sudden distress because his grip on Jongin’s bubblegum-pink bob loosens, fingers  now carding through the strands soothingly.

“Jesus,” he says before cursing, panting heavily but trying to be as quiet as possible. “They’re going to report me to the department. They’re gonna—”

A particularly forceful and wet suck has Junmyeon reeling, mouth parting and staying agape as he gasps for air.

“—fuck them.” Hearing Junmyeon curse has Jongin’s own erection pressing painfully against his skinny jeans and tenting at the particular spot. Unbeknownst, Jongin begins to rut against his free hand and palms lightly at his clothed cock, eliciting a series of moans from his own mouth. Junmyeon seems to appreciate the humming around his cock because he’s now throwing his head back, exposing his throat’s deliciously flushed skin. “Jongin—” Junmyeon inhales particularly loud, painful even, “Jongin, _please_.”

But instead of finishing Junmyeon off, Jongin is feeling particularly selfish and detaches his mouth from Junmyeon’s painfully erect cock with an audible pop. Jongin looks at Junmyeon, the older male looking completely debauched in his scintillating sweat and flushed skin.

Shakily, Jongin stands between Junmyeon thighs again, purposely positioning his erection against Junmyeon’s naked thigh, the tight material of Jongin’s skinny jeans the only thing keeping Jongin from seeking that delicious friction.

Somehow, though, the boiling feeling coursing through his veins simmers down when he looks at the way Junmyeon is staring back at him, eyes shining with a brilliance that swallows Jongin’s lust momentarily.

“I’m not even in my late twenties yet, but I feel so spent from you just sucking my cock,” Junmyeon whispers close to his lips, face a mere millimeters from each other. It’s sinful, the way Junmyeon speaks those words in a matter that have Jongin groaning in discomfort at his own erection. Junmyeon isn’t looking at him, though. He’s looking at Jongin’s lips, probably at the way they’re pulling up into a small smirk.

With a newfound adrenaline and ambition, Jongin pushes Junmyeon onto the table, leading Junmyeon to rest his arms behind his body as he props himself on his elbows, silently taking in all of Jongin. The younger male, in turn, leans forward and presses his lips against Junmyeon’s once again, softer, as if there’s an underlying intention behind the action.

In actuality, it’s not particularly a lie. As he sees Junmyeon lean back, sees the way his hair is tousled messily everywhere, the way he looks absolutely debauched and they haven’t even properly _fucked yet_ , Jongin wonders how he got so lucky. When he’d met Junmyeon at that fundraiser months ago, he’d never expected for such a prince-like, primmed man to be remotely interested in a delinquent looking rebel like himself. Not that Junmyeon ever held such presumptions, he’d later learn, but it just seemed too much to believe, to believe that a man of Junmyeon’s calibre could deem Jongin worthy of his company. “You’re silly,” Junmyeon had dismissed him, laughing teasingly. “The whole concept of people deserving one another is outdated. Stop thinking like that, Jongin.” It wasn’t as if Jongin wasn’t up to Junmyeon’s criteria, it just seemed that there were plenty of other suitable men more apt for Junmyeon than himself. Junmyeon had fucked him senseless that night, whispering reassuring words into his ear like a mantra, a mantra that seemed to ease Jongin into believing whatever Junmyeon hushed into his skin. Now, Jongin admires being able to see Junmyeon like this, his free, leaking erection caught between their bodies.

Jongin, however, has a different goal this time. Burying his soft nose into the crook of Junmyeon’s neck, the younger male enjoys the warmth that radiates from the body beneath him. Inhaling, Jongin recognizes Junmyeon’s usual cologne, one he’s almost gone noseblind to, the one he’s come to identify Junmyeon with. Jongin instinctively wraps his arms around Junmyeon’s thin waist, bringing him impossibly closer, their soft puffs of breaths the only sound in the silent classroom.

“Jongin?” asks Junmyeon softly, and Jongin doesn’t have to see his face from this angle to know that he’s probably worried Junmyeon with his sudden docility.

It’s scary, Jongin thinks. A few months ago, he’d been ready to just take charge of his family’s company. He’d been given the opportunity to fuck around, do whatever he’d wanted. His parents believed his bisexuality to be a phase, but the more Jongin had spent his life living without regrets, the more he had realized that taking over a multi-millionaire company for his family wasn’t something he’d ever be too keen on. No matter how much of a “vacation” he’d get. Then, he had met Junmyeon, and somehow his presence has solidified all Jongin had ever wanted in life. With Junmyeon, he’d learnt to see the world through different eyes. With Junmyeon, he found himself wishing for a tomorrow, wishing for something that could cure the loneliness that crawled under his skin whenever Sehun was missing from their various shared apartments. Even with his best friend by his side, the loneliness seemed unbearable.

With Junmyeon, it was different. He found himself looking forward to tomorrow.

Jongin merely smiles against Junmyeon’s sticky, sweaty skin, curling his fingers into the soft fabric of his cardigan. For someone who is filthy rich and can afford dry-cleaning every day of the week, Junmyeon’s Downy scented clothes always manage to ease Jongin’s brain.

Indulging on the last seconds of his weakness, Jongin takes one last shaky breath before craning his neck up to Junmyeon’s level, breathing a small puff of air into Junmyeon’s left ear. Beneath him, Junmyeon shudders.

“Sorry, _professor_ ,” Jongin whispers seductively, and just like that, he’s back at it. Junmyeon swallows audibly, slightly confused. “I didn’t properly finish sucking you off,” whispers Jongin, “but that’s because I want to ask you for something.” Jongin moves closer, taking part of Junmyeon’s ear into his mouth.

Junmyeon moans, his palms flattening against Jongin’s hips, the younger male feeling their warmth radiate and burn the area in which they rest. “ _Professor_ ,” Jongin whispers into Junmyeon’s ear, hot puffs brushing against skin, “I want you to punish me.” Junmyeon’s breath hitches, and Jongin doesn’t really need to see his face to know his eyes look like giant, dark orbs. For a second, Jongin thinks he’s being too bold, being too open to Junmyeon, but he remembers all the times they’ve done shit like this, all the times Junmyeon has never been reluctant to fall into Jongin’s temptation.

“Jongin,” says Junmyeon, voice dangerously low, “what are you doing?” Jongin hums against flush skin, opting to be bold and rutting against Junmyeon’s, eliciting a moan from the man below Jongin.

“I mean,” Jongin begins, leaning back to stand at his full height and dragging Junmyeon with him, “I’ve completely fucked up your work schedule. Aren’t you going to punish me?” The question comes off more coy than intended, but Jongin assumes it works when Junmyeon lets out a muffled moan.

“Christ, Jongin. What happened to dinner?” It’s a stupid question, especially for someone the likes of Junmyeon. Nevertheless, Jongin finds himself laughing, moaning immediately after grinding against Junmyeon’s bare thigh.

Something flashes by Junmyeon’s eyes before his bright orbs lose their glint, transforming into something more dangerous, animalistic. “Okay,” Junmyeon swallows, “all right.” Suddenly, with the force Jongin has seen the older male use only a few times, Junmyeon has their positions reversed, Jongin pinned on the table below him.

Junmyeon’s gaze flickers at the clock perched above the chalkboard behind him. Jongin follows his gaze, noticing it’s fifteen minutes past five and that the noise behind the door has died down. The silence of the room is deep, the only sounds belonging to their mingling, soft pants and the silent hum of the classroom projector still on. Junmyeon leans in, taking the expanse of skin that connects his throat and jaw into his mouth, biting harshly until Jongin lets out a pained moan. Junmyeon, as if realizing his brusque ministrations, begins to suckle apologetically. Warm palms are now underneath Jongin’s flannel, exploring cold skin and leaving blazing trails in their wake. “My students are gone,” Junmyeon practically growls, and it induces the rise of goosebumps throughout Jongin’s body. “This is your fault for always being so petulant,” says Junmyeon. Harshly, he tears his hands away from Jongin and pulls at the hem of his blue flannel, pulling it over Jongin’s head in one swift movement.

Junmyeon is quick, and no matter how many times he has sex with Junmyeon, the older man manages to always surprise him at how eager and earnest his wanting for Jongin is. If Jongin weren’t already blushing, he’s sure Junmyeon’s harsh actions would have sent him into a grade school teenager fit. His thoughts become incoherent the moment Junmyeon’s lips latch onto Jongin’s left nipple, nibbling softly at the peak and then swirling his tongue in obscene circles. Jongin’s sure that if there’s a class going on next door, the entire class has just heard his moans. Not like he cares, however, because his hands quickly come to caress Junmyeon’s head. Jongin’s fingers massage at Junmyeon’s scalp every time the man completes a circle across his nipple, but then Junmyeon is blowing a warm puff of air onto his nipple and Jongin sees white.

The blond above him is quick, shifting his attention to Jongin’s nipple at the same moment Jongin feels burning fingers dip into the waistband of his skinny jeans. Jongin elicits a moan, shutting his eyes at the sinful sensation. “ _Professor_ , please,” Jongin whines when Junmyeon’s fingers linger far too long at the same spot.

“Be quiet,” Junmyeon all but growls, his mouth latching itself onto Jongin’s collar bone. Junmyeon’s other free hand is pinning Jongin to the table by the hips, rubbing smooth circles where it rests.

With a forceful yank, Junmyeon manages to take Jongin’s pants off after popping its button loose. Jongin is now clad in underwear, looking at Junmyeon whilst biting his slightly swollen lower lip.

“Hyung…” Jongin says, dropping the roleplay, and urgently shifting his hips towards Junmyeon to get some form of relief. He can feel himself getting harder as he ruts gently, Junmyeon’s hand coming to pin him once more in a commanding manner. One of Junmyeon’s calloused thumbs has made its way to Jongin’s nipple, applying as little pressure as possible while still sending sensations coursing through Jongin’s body.

“Hyung,” Jongin says, and he feels parched. His throat is raspy, his voice reduced to nothing more than a whisper at this point. “Please. _I need you_.”

Something seems to snap because Suho’s body heat is suddenly gone, Jongin regaining some form of semblance and thought because the oxygen floods into his lungs once again. He doesn’t see Junmyeon leave, but he knows the older man is rustling through his backpack for something Jongin assumes to be a condom and a lube, making more heat rush to his dicks.

“Jun,” Jongin cries, _mewls pathetically_ , and Junmyeon appeases him by running his fingers along the planes of Jongin’s body.

“I’ve got you, baby boy,” Junmyeon reassures him tenderly, leaving all traces of their teacher and student foreplay behind him. A faint squirting sound is heard, and then there’s a slick finger probing at Jongin’s entrance before he can deduce further. Junmyeon inserts a single finger into the tight space, maybe once he deems the entrance lubricated enough, which has Jongin seeing red in the ceiling above. He hisses at the slight pain, earning him encouraging coos and words of reassurance from Junmyeon against his collarbone.

“It’s okay,” he coos, eyelashes dancing against Jongin’s neck and his mouth placing kisses all over the skin. As expected, Jongin relaxes after a few shallow thrusts, and Junmyeon decides to insert another finger into the younger male. This time, Jongin is moaning in pleasure, the older man’s digits no longer uncomfortable. It’s like that, Junmyeon’s two fingers brushing the delicate insides of his inner walls, before Junmyeon pushes his luck and inserts a final third. Jongin is gyrating his hips against his fingers now, cock painfully erect once more. He catches Junmyeon staring intently at him and judging by the way Junmyeon is looking at him, Jongin against the desk of this classroom has him _really_ turned on.

“That’s it,” Junmyeon murmurs, his free hand coming to his own erection and giving it a few pumps. Jongin’s not really sure at this point because Junmyeon is pushing him forward, Jongin instantly hissing when the burning flesh of his chest makes contact with the cool surface. There’s a loss of warmth, giving Jongin a chance to replenish his lungs with oxygen.

When Junmyeon enters him some time after that, condom and all, Jongin loses the air he’d just taken in and groans at the pain of being torn in half, even with Junmyeon prepping him. Junmyeon doesn’t move, and probably will not until he knows Jongin feels sufficiently ready for the pain that will result from his movements. Junmyeon waits for Jongin, Jongin grabbing onto the edge of the desk, knuckles white. Through gritted teeth, Jongin exhales.

“You can move now, hyung,” he manages to croak, and when Junmyeon does, he moans, relishing the calm before the storm. Junmyeon starts off slowly, but soon Jongin begins to meet his thrusts and that somehow sets a pace for both of them. Jongin’s chest hurts, the friction of against his chest making his skin itch. Still, Jongin doesn’t care about that or the messy noises he’s making, doesn’t care when the edges of his vision begin to blur. Junmyeon is always like this when they fuck. He seems to treat Jongin like he’s on a whole new level. He doesn’t just fuck Jongin, and Jongin hates himself for how corny his thoughts are, but Junmyeon always caters to his needs as if they’re making _love_. It’s a scary thought, he realizes now as he’s getting banged into the wooden table of this classroom. His thoughts quickly dissipate, however, when Junmyeon brushes particularly close to his prostate. Junmyeon’s thrusts come quicker, Jongin finally being able to prop himself on his arms to reduce the pain of the friction. He’s sure his eyes are half-lidded, pink hair filthy with sweat and plastered onto his forehead. Jongin feels his  upper body give out and he collapses forward on the table, the younger screaming as if they weren’t on campus during class hours. Junmyeon’s hitting his prostate repeatedly, something that has Jongin feeling delirious. “Junmyeon,” he croaks, voice above a whisper.

Junmyeon comes first, inside of Jongin, with a quiet moan of pleasure. Jongin can feel the moment the elder’s entire body tenses before he collapses onto Jongin’s back. Junmyeon continues thrusting, small lazy circles. Their angle shifts just then, Junmyeon pressing Jongin up the desk, Jongin’s oversensitive cock brushing against the edge of the table. Jongin is done for after two erratic rubs against the wooden desk (he makes a mental note to clean the table before they leave), body spent and mind numb.

It’s nice, Jongin thinks, as Junmyeon’s breathing evens out against the muscles of his back, _this is nice_.

“I think we should still go out to eat. I’m starving, Jongin.”

☀️☀️☀️

Jongin worries his lower lip, gaze focusing in on the cardboard boxes of Chinese take-out they’d ordered on the way back from UCLA. They’re in Junmyeon’s flat in Brentwood, the elder insisting that they get their privacy (probably referring to Sehun). They had been in the midst of eating szechuan beef when Junmyeon’s phone had begun ringing incessantly. The first time, Junmyeon had ignored his phone, but by the third call, he had excused himself from watching _House of Cards_ to take the call outside on the balcony.

That had been thirty minutes ago.

“Hey,” Junmyeon smiles tightly, closing the sliding glass door behind him.

“Hi,” Jongin replies, eyes still absentmindedly glued to the television screen.

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything besides that, plopping down on the couch with Jongin and leaning his head onto Jongin’s shoulder. Jongin does better, enveloping the older male in his arms, at the perfect angle to tuck Junmyeon’s head under his chin.

“Is your mom’s health not getting any better?” Jongin finally whispers, after Junmyeon has stopped shaking slightly.

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything, just shifts his head further into the crook of Jongin’s neck.

“My dad thinks it’s time I go back to South Korea and see my training already. We had a deal and I still have _two years_ left—”

“Hyung.”

Jongin tilts Junmyeon’s face up, capturing his lips in a chaste, reassuring kiss. Jongin is always being comforted by Junmyeon when it comes to Jongin’s chaos of a life. It’s the least he can do, to be here for Junmyeon.

“I’ve got you, hyung. At the end of the day, you’ll have me,” Jongin assures, intertwining their fingers on his lap and tracing lazy circles on the back of Junmyeon’s hand. “You’ve got me.”

 


End file.
